I Shall But Love Thee Better After Death
by Miskcat
Summary: Roy must live with the consequences of a fateful choice made in the tunnels below Central.
1. A gathering of old friends

_[Author's Note - This story presupposes a somewhat different outcome for Riza in the tunnels under Central before and as Roy was forced through the array to stand before the Gate. The story was started before the final outcome of the manga was revealed, but I think it can stand as an AU story.]_

Roy smiled at the two of them, Havoc and Breda in the two armchairs to the left of the fireplace, and handed them each a beer stein. "I think you'll like this brew," he said. "It's from a family-owned brewery in town, and it's supposed to be one of the best in the country. But they keep it as local as they can, in case they get too big to retain the quality."

As he turned back to the coffee table in front of the couch facing the fireplace, he heard Breda smack his lips. "You're right, it's very good. I may just have to order a keg before I head back on Monday."

Roy picked up a glass of red wine from the tray and handed it to Falman, sitting in the armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace. "I just assumed you still preferred wine, Vato? Unless you'd rather try the beer too?"

"No, this is fine, thank you." Falman took the wine and sipped with a murmur of appreciation as Roy took his own glass and sat on the couch, crossing his legs and laying his left arm along the back.

Out of long habit, he glanced at the outstretched wrist to make sure his shirtsleeve was rolled down, and then he raised his glass to his lips. "I hope you don't mind that we're having dessert a bit later," he remarked. "I thought we'd let the meal settle first."

"Good idea," Jean grinned. The flickering light from the fireplace made the hair on his left side spark with gold, while the right side of his face was a shadowed orange. "I couldn't eat another thing right now," he groaned. "I didn't know you could cook like that."

Roy smiled down into his wine, swirling it slightly. He'd had help, but he wasn't about to tell them that. He'd spent all day in preparations before his three guests had arrived from Central. It was gratifying that they'd enjoyed the meal so much. "I've had time to learn a few new skills," he said, "since I moved out here." He looked aside toward the window, where the early evening light was fading at last and the red and gold leaves on the trees in the yard outside were now barely visible. "I hope Fuery hasn't gotten lost."

"He'll be here soon," Breda assured him. "Though I bet he had a hard time leaving, even if it's just for a weekend. He'd want to stay, but I know he wants to see you too, and tell you his – ouch!" He glared at Havoc, shaking the arm his friend had just whacked.

Havoc only grinned again. "Let him tell it himself, Heymans. Don't steal his thunder."

Roy's eyes narrowed as he looked from one to the other, and then he broke into a sly smile. "Don't tell me," he drawled. "The kid's got a girlfriend."

"See, Breda, you did it," Havoc scowled.

"Well, I didn't tell him who it was, did I?" Breda shrugged, unperturbed.

Roy chuckled, taking another sip of wine, his eyes laughing over the rim of the glass as Havoc grinned back at him. It had been too long. He should have invited everyone here months ago. It had only been during his second and third years as Fuhrer that his people had regained their ability to laugh like this, and then he'd retired and moved out here, to the former Hawkeye place. He'd missed this camaraderie in the ten months since he'd left Central.

Setting his glass back on the tray, he stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. "I still say you two should have brought Maria and Susan," he said.

"Naw, Susan's too pregnant to travel," Breda said, lifting his stein again. "She's not due for another three weeks, but she wanted to stay near her mom just in case."

"And Maria thought maybe we'd like to have time just for us," Havoc added. "It's kind of been a while."

"Just what I was thinking," Roy nodded. "I still wish she had come, though. She was one of the ones I…" His voice trailed off briefly and for the merest instant his eyes unfocussed. But then he caught himself and smiled again. "Winry's likely to feel a little overwhelmed when she gets here tomorrow, with all this male company."

"She'll be controlling us all in five minutes and you know it," Havoc countered.

Roy cast a speculative, sidelong glance at Falman. "What about you, Vato? Any women I should know about?" He watched in delight as the man's lean features slowly took on a distinctly pink tinge.

"N-no," Falman stammered, staring into his glass. "Not really."

"Not _really_?" Roy pounced immediately. "That means there's some possibility."

"No. I mean – no, not really. I mean – " The man's head jerked toward the front hallway at the staccato knocking sound. The relief on his face was almost comical.

"Saved by the next person I'm going to grill," Roy smiled with friendly malice, getting to his feet. "But I promise we're not done."

Fuery was all smiles as he stepped through the front door, bringing in a wave of crisp, cool autumn air. He beamed as Roy put an arm around his shoulders. "So good to see you, sir!" he exclaimed. "You look great. It looks like the country air is good for you."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Kain, that you can call me Roy?"

Now it was Fuery's turn to go pink, as he allowed Roy to take his coat and hang it in the hall closet. "Sorry. It's hard to get out of the habit. And it's only been a few months since you left Central, and I haven't seen you since – "

"Relax, kid, I'm just teasing," Roy laughed, leading him into the living room and directing him to the couch. "We've got leftovers if you'd like to eat something. And beer or wine. And I understand that you have some big news."

Fuery looked around the room, his mouth open. "You told him," he accused the general group.

"We did not," Breda said. "He guessed. And he doesn't know who it is."

"No I don't," Roy agreed, pushing Fuery into his seat and pouring him some wine. "But I'm all ears. You've got a girlfriend, am I right?"

Fuery took a sip of his wine and straightened his glasses, smiling almost primly. "Actually," he said, "no I don't."

"You don't?"

"You _don't_?" Breda exclaimed. "What the – did something happen? Did you two – "

"Actually," Fuery's cheeks shaded to pink again, "something did happen. Just before I left. I don't have a girlfriend, sir. Roy. I have a fiancée."

"Kain, you sly dog, you," Havoc grinned, lifting his stein in his friend's direction. "You had us going for a minute. So you proposed, did you?"

"Just before I left," Fuery nodded. "And she said yes!"

"Well, obviously," Breda laughed.

"It was hard to leave," Fuery added, a little breathlessly, "but I just had to tell you, sir. Roy."

Roy set a hand on his shoulder. "What I want you to tell me, Kain, is who she is."

"Scieszka."

Roy leaned back in the couch. "Well," he said. "Isn't that perfect." When he thought about it, it actually made a lot of sense. "Congratulations," he smiled. "But now I want to know why the hell you didn't bring her with you!"

"I almost did," Fuery admitted. "But when you invited us, it sounded like you just wanted, you know, to see the core people." He shrugged awkwardly, lowering his eyes to his glass. "Well…the ones who are left, anyway."

Roy's eyes slid from the young man's face toward the fireplace as he felt the awkwardness spread quickly to the others. He could almost feel them thinking about the grave at the bottom of the yard, visible from the upstairs rooms at the back of the house. This wasn't the first time they'd all been gathered in this place.

"Sorry," Fuery said, still staring into his wine. "Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned…"

"Of course you can mention Riza," Roy answered softly. "All of us cared about her a great deal. She wouldn't want us to forget her. Especially when we're gathered together like this."

"None of us ever will forget her," Havoc said. "There was no one else on earth like her."

"There certainly wasn't," Roy agreed. "And in this of all places, it's right to think of her. I don't want you to feel you can't talk about her, just because…well, because it's me." He took another sip of his drink. "I know what you mean, though, Kain. I did want to see you all. The 'core people', as you said. Though I regard Scieszka and Maria as much a part of the family as I do Winry, Ed, and Al." He hesitated, eyes darting around the room at the still-averted faces. Leaning forward and picking up his glass again, he put on a sly smile. "But for now," he said, eyes narrowing on Falman's face, "about your little mystery, Vato…"

Falman's groan was drowned out by Breda's loud hooting and the laughter of the others. But Roy caught Havoc lifting the stein to him for a moment as everyone joined in on the grilling.

He didn't let it last long, though. If he'd felt that Falman was getting too uncomfortable, he wouldn't have started anything, but even so, he made sure to begin steering his friends into other topics pretty quickly. When he started asking about developments at Central, they jumped right in and carried the conversation away, filling him in on the latest doings of Olivia Armstrong, the new leader of the military. They probably weren't even aware of how he'd steered them in that direction.

The darkness outside the front window deepened until it was complete. At one point, when Fuery wandered into the kitchen to take advantage of the leftovers, Roy got up to pull the curtains closed. Havoc stretched out his long legs and remarked, "Didn't you say something about dessert a while ago?"

"Only if you get up and help me get it ready," Roy smiled. "Aren't you about due for a stretch?"

"What're you, my wife?" the other man grinned, but dutifully got out of his chair.

Roy wandered down the hall toward the kitchen, leaving Havoc to do a bit of bending before he followed. Roy's former subordinate had experienced considerable healing over the years, thanks to a fragment of the very last Philosopher's Stone and a lot of physio. But he still tended to get pretty stiff after he'd been sitting a while.

When he finally walked into the kitchen and saw Roy slicing the apple pie, the man whistled. "If you tell me you made that pie yourself, I think I'll fall over."

"Bet he did," Fuery laughed, pouring gravy over some mashed potatoes on his plate."

Roy glanced aside at Havoc with a mocking smile. "Better hang onto something, my friend."

"I just don't believe this. Roy Mustang being all domestic." Havoc's eyes followed Fuery as the younger man left the room with his plate, and then he looked at Roy again. "How are you doing, though?" he asked quietly, leaning a hip against one of the counters and folding his arms across his ches. "Are you really all right, living by yourself? Especially…here? There have got to be a lot of memories here."

"Yes there are. But they are good ones, Jean." Roy sliced as he spoke, lifting pieces of the pie onto plates as he did so. "You'd be surprised at how peaceful it really is here."

"And you can handle that? Being away from the centres of power? You spent a lot of years trying to get there."

"Yes, and then I finished what I wanted to do." Roy paused, looking through the window, into the darkness of the big yard out back.

"And I suppose…you're near _her_. That has to mean something," Havoc murmured, following his gaze.

"Yes. It does. More than you can imagine."

"Oh, I can imagine. We weren't sure, for a while, if you'd make it after Riza died in those tunnels. You really scared us for a while, there."

Roy leaned his hands briefly on the counter, the knife still clutched in one of them. "I know. It was touch and go for the first few days. But I knew she'd want me to keep going, and finish what we'd worked so hard to do. I did it for her. And that was very comforting. And the rest of you gave me a lot to live for, as time went on."

"But that's why I worry about you now, out here, with…well, with nothing more to do for her. Are you really all right, Roy?"

Roy cut the last piece of pie and set the plates onto another tray as Havoc dug into the cutlery drawer for some forks. "Please don't worry about me, Jean. I'm glad I moved out here. I miss the rest of you, but I'm doing fine. I'm quite happy. Really."

"All right, boss, if you say so. Just wanted to make sure."

Roy picked up the tray and followed his friend back down the hall. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the slight trace of a limp. "You're getting tired, Jean, I can tell. I think it'll be time to turn in after we've finished dessert."

"Yes, mom," Havoc smirked over his shoulder. "I don't know how I've lived this past year, without you ordering me around."

After he'd delivered the pie slices, Roy made a pot of tea to end the evening with. The talk became more relaxed and personal, as Breda spoke about his impending fatherhood, Fuery enthused about being newly affianced, and Havoc talked about his own plans to retire again from the military, and ride on Maria's coattails instead.

"I'm going to open a store in Central," he said, "and kind of follow in the family tradition. If the military needs me for anything special, I'll be there. But Maria can do the heavy work, I think."

Roy glanced at Falman with a smile. "And meanwhile, you're still not going to fill us in on your own…situation?"

Mellowed by the wine and the good fellowship, Falman smiled back. "Not just now, Roy," he said. "All in good time."

Shortly thereafter, it was time for bed. Roy showed his guests to their various rooms, including the ground floor den, in which he'd set up a special bed for Havoc. "You can have this one," he said, "and save yourself the stairs. There's a second bathroom down the hall, so you don't need to go upstairs at all this weekend, if you don't want to."

"You think of everything," Havoc said. "As always. Thanks."

It took a while for everyone to settle in, but Roy busied himself in the kitchen, putting things away, while they all got ready for bed. When at last he turned out the lights and made his way upstairs, he was reasonably certain that most of the others were well on their way to falling asleep. He moved down the hall, not to the master bedroom at the front of the house, but to one of the rooms in the back instead.

Listening to the silence gradually settling into the house around him, he closed the door and walked slowly toward the window on the other side of the room, pushing one curtain aside. He'd deliberately chosen this room to sleep in, ten months ago when he'd moved here to stay. It was only from the two rear bedrooms on the second floor that you could see the far end of the garden that sloped down toward the creek, where the three graves nestled on the grass beneath the trees.

Riza came to him softly, as she always did, making a sound to warn him that she was there, so he wouldn't be startled.

"There you are," he smiled. "I missed you. You didn't come out to see the others."

"No," she said, quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. "I thought you'd like some time just with them, and I didn't want to distract you. I listened to everything, though. Isn't it nice about Kain and Sziescka?"

"It is," Roy nodded. "I don't know why I didn't see it before, how good they'd be together."

Riza laughed. "It's probably a good thing you didn't. You might have wanted to interfere, and who knows what would have happened then."

He chuckled. "You're probably right. Isn't it funny, how all of them have been paired off now? At least, I think all of them, if Falman would give more than just hints. Maybe all they really needed was for me to get out of the way. They seem to have done much better without me."

"Never," she chided softly. "None of us ever did very well without you. You know that."

Roy closed his eyes, his throat tightening. When he opened them again, he blinked against the tears and lifted his left hand slowly, to brush the fingertips over the glass. He stared at his own reflection and whispered, "I missed you downstairs. I wish…I wish I could touch you."

"You know you just have to look for me and I'll come to you, Roy. I'll never leave you again."

"Yes," Roy said. "We'll always be together. Forever."

For a moment his eyes tried to peer past the reflection in the window, looking into the darkness, trying to find the place where he and the others had buried her, four years ago. But finally, as they always did, his eyes focussed more closely, moving to the hand that still touched the glass. Moving to the wrist, to the sleeve that concealed the evidence of his great sin: the symbol gouged into the flesh, the raised scar a livid red, formed in the shape of the seal with which he had used his blood to bind the soul of Riza Hawkeye into his own body.


	2. The gang's all here

Roy hefted the axe and brought it down hard on the end of the upturned log, which split apart with a satisfying crack.

Or rather…he held back and watched as his body lifted the axe. He'd gotten used to the observer role by now, even if it had been very hard to adjust to in the early days. But Riza deserved as much exercise and fresh air as he did – more, in fact, considering what he'd done to her – and he made a point of giving her control of their shared body as often as he possibly could. Sometimes he gave her the entire day.

"_**What have you done to me**__?" she had screamed inside his head as the truth dawned on her, as he reeled blindly against the tunnel wall in the tumult of the final events of the struggle. And yet, even then, not allowing her voice to sound in the tunnel so others could hear, because if anyone had ever guessed the crime he'd committed, he would never have been accepted as Fuhrer._

She straightened and leaned back, stretching and breathing deeply as she regarded the pile of wood they'd already prepared, sitting on the leaf-covered ground beside the chopping block. "Can you smell that?" she asked, her voice sounding inside him as well as outside in the crisp morning air. "Someone's started their fireplace already."

"It smells good," Roy answered aloud. "But I wonder if they're going to need it. It looks like the day could be warm." The sun that was finally starting to slant at a steep angle through branches still laden with red and orange leaves had already revealed a sky clear of clouds. And the cool sharpness of the air had quickly vanished in the twenty minutes they'd been out here. Riza had soon taken off his jacket and slung it over a nearby branch.

"Some of these older houses aren't well insulated," she reminded him now, "and it's getting pretty cool at night."

"True. Which means we should get this wood back to the house and rouse the sluggards out of their warm beds." Roy grinned, and felt the swell of Riza's amusement. His former subordinates would be very surprised at how early he got up these days.

She regarded the stack of wood, which came almost up to Roy's knees. "I chopped more than you can carry. Sorry."

"Doesn't matter. I wanted you to get the exercise, since you're going to have to stay in the background for most of the weekend."

"You know I don't mind," Riza said.

"_Of course I'll support you while you're Fuhrer," she had said to him, after he had been again to the Gate, and returned with his sight. "This is what you've worked for, ever since Ishbal. I'll help in every way I can."_

"_Why are you doing this?" he had cried in his anguish. "Why are you not taking control of my body and plunging a knife into my heart?"_

"_Don't think the thought hasn't occurred to me."_

_And for the first time, he'd heard the humour returning to her voice, and realized that they really might survive this. And as the tears of relief, guilt, and gratitude had stung his eyes, they had actually laughed together._

He shrugged, and realized she'd relinquished control of his body. "Don't go," he said.

"I'm not." He could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm just going to make you do the heavy lifting."

Roy laughed, casting his eyes once more around the small wood that opened onto the yard. "I should've guessed," he said, bending over the cut logs.

Sometimes she saw things with his eyes that he didn't notice in his preoccupation. "_Roy_," she said, and now the voice resonated only inside his head. "_Someone's coming._"

He straightened, looking again toward the yard. Sunlight flared gold for a moment, as the approaching figure stepped between two trees. Roy checked his left shirtsleeve, and was already smiling as the newcomer drew closer. "Edward. You're here early. Good to see you."

"Hey," Ed nodded. "The train just got into the village, and Winry found us a ride out here."

"You must be tired."

"No, we sprang for berths this time, so we slept all night." The younger man put his hands on his hips, looking around the wood. "I can't believe you're working this hard, this early," he grinned.

"I do this almost every day," Roy told him, then laughed at his expression. "Thought you knew everything about me, didn't you, Ed?"

"_Don't tease him _too_ much, Roy_," came the internal voice.

"_Oh, you're no fun._"

"You manage to surprise me sometimes," Ed continued, oblivious, "but this is a whopper."

"It's the fresh air out here," Roy told him. "It's nothing like in the city. It's worth getting up for."

"I can believe that. That's how it is in Risembool, too." The young man eyed the large pile of wood. "I suppose I'd better help you get this stuff to the house."

"You did show up at just the right time," Roy agreed, and was rewarded with the eyeroll he expected.

"Of course," Ed smirked. "I always do."

"_See?_" Roy said to Riza. "_He's just begging to be teased._"

"Do you want me to load you up first?" he asked aloud. "Or do you want to hand the wood to me instead?"

"Why do it either way?" Ed bent over and quickly pulled a few chunks of wood aside, laying them side by side on the ground. He peered up at his companion. "You can do my kind of alchemy now, can't you? Don't you think you can clap and make a wagon?"

"I hadn't thought of that. But let's give it a try." Roy caught Ed's raised eyebrows and added, "I just don't do alchemy that much these days, Ed, especially the kind where I clap. There's not much need, and I like doing things with my hands most of the time."

"I thought alchemy was your big love," Ed remarked.

_No_, Roy thought, _there's a greater love now, and she needs as much exercise as possible_. He could feel Riza's warm, wordless response as he bent over the wood. Frowning in concentration, he clapped his hands together and touched them to the chunks. A moment later, when the blue glow of the alchemy subsided, he saw a little wheeled cart standing in front of him.

"Not bad," Ed nodded approval. "But you forgot something." Pulling another block of wood free, he touched the end of it to the end of the cart and said, "How about a handle to pull it with?"

"Oh. Right." Another clap, and the wood was attached. It wasn't hinged, but just sort of stuck there, but it would do.

"_Good work,_" Riza remarked.

"Thanks," Roy said.

Ed glanced at him. "What?"

Roy stifled a gasp of alarm, as he bent to pick up the first armful. "Sorry," he said shortly. "Just thinking out loud. Don't mind me."

Ed began helping to load up the cart. Riza cautioned, "_You'll have to be careful all weekend. You can't speak out loud to me._"

"_I know. Sorry. I'll try to be more watchful. It's just that I'm so used to being able to talk to you whenever I want…_"

"_I might have to stay silent, just in case I tempt you again._"

"_No! Please don't do that. I'll be careful._"

The two men quickly finished loading the cart, and Ed grabbed the handle as they began walking back to the house. They stopped again, briefly, as Roy adjusted a wobble in one wheel, and then began again. They took their time, partly out of necessity because they did need to work at moving the cart among the trees and over the uneven terrain. But they hadn't seen each other for a while, and took some time to get caught up.

Roy watched his companion's movements, easy and assured, and noted the unconscious smile on the younger man's face. "How are you, Ed? Getting used to life in Rush Valley?"

"It's not bad. Winry's learned a lot there, so it's been good. I still do some travelling, though, so I'm not always there." Ed turned and helped Roy lift the cart over a log half-submerged in dry leaves, his braid swinging over his shoulder as he bent forward.

"What sort of travelling?" Roy wondered.

"Falman gets me to do some looking around for Investigations sometimes." Ed straightened, taking hold of the cart handle again. Brushing a hanging lock of hair out of his eyes, he flashed Roy a glance. "It's not the same without you, though. The jobs are a lot more ordinary."

Roy smiled. "That was always the goal, Ed. To make things more ordinary and less dangerous."

"I know. I still say you left too soon, though."

"I had reasons. But it's nice to know someone misses having me around."

"Hey, I didn't say _that_," Ed snorted.

"_Same old Ed,_" Roy chuckled inwardly.

"_Not quite. He's a lot happier._"

Roy didn't have to worry about waking up his sleeping guests, because the new arrivals had apparently already done so: once they reached the more level lawn behind the house, he could hear the uproar long before they reached the back door. "Ed," he said, "you brought Armstrong too?"

"Yeah, we did. We invited his sister too, but she was busy."

Roy stopped in his tracks. "You didn't."

Ed looked over his shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. "No, not really. But I told Al it would be worth doing, just to see the look on your face." He faced forward again. "And it was."

"Edward Elric, you are a brat."

Ed grinned back at him. "If you need to transmute a bed big enough for him, I'll help you chop the extra wood."

In the kitchen, they indeed found Alex Louis Armstrong, sitting on a sturdy wooden chair that, even so, looked rather fragile under his bulk. He was holding forth upon the beauty of the autumn morning. Beside him, between Armstrong and Havoc, sat Alphonse Elric, laughing with Havoc about something. The young man waved a hand at Roy as the man and the other Elric brother entered the rear landing and took the two steps up to the kitchen doorway.

The smell of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and toasted bread had reached them the moment they opened the outer door. Roy smiled at the sight: Winry Rockbell worked busily at the stove, while beside her, buttering a stack of toast, stood another guest he hadn't expected.

"Scieszka," he smiled. "What a nice surprise." Behind him, Ed stepped back down onto the landing and began to unload some of the wood into the cupboard beside the stairs going down to the basement.

"Hi, Mister Mustang," the young woman chirped, adjusting her glasses with the heel of one hand as a butter knife waved precariously near her hair. "I hope you don't mind. Winry wanted me to surprise Kain."

"_I_ wanted," Winry snorted. "You wanted it too. I mean, you only got engaged yesterday."

"Congratulations," Roy said. "And of course I don't mind. And my name is Roy."

Havoc laughed over his coffee cup. "I think you'll be giving a lot of reminders this weekend."

"_Scieszka!_" came a half-cry, half-yodel from the doorway into the hall, and all heads turned to see a very ruffled Fuery standing there, still in his pajamas, blinking sleepily but happily at his fiancée. Behind him stood a grinning Falman, who now shoved him further into the room.

"_Kain_!" the young lady cried in her turn, dropping a half-buttered slice of toast on a plate and sprinting forward. She hit with enough force that Fuery staggered back a step, but as they threw their arms around each other, neither seemed to mind. Scieszka planted a kiss on her fiancé's lips, and was rewarded with a general round of clapping throughout the kitchen.

"Well, Mustang," Ed remarked with a grin from the landing, "if you've gotten used to a quiet life out here in the country, you're in for a rude awakening now."

"I'm already awake, Ed, believe me," Roy drawled. "And this doesn't bother me at all. But that reminds me," he turned back toward the crowd in the kitchen and raised his voice, "I'd like your attention just for a minute, people!" He clapped his hands a couple of times, sharply, and it took mere moments for things to quiet down. Everyone gradually stopped chattering and looked in his direction, while Ed left his unloading of the firewood and came to stand a step below Roy at the door.

"Not bad," the younger man said. "They still listen to you. Sort of."

Roy snorted, and then addressed his audience: "Just so you know, I've made some plans for the day, for anyone who wants to participate. There's a local fair being held in the village this weekend, so I was hoping you might like to go to that for a while. If you like preserves, or quilts and other crafts, or you'd like to take a few bags of very good vegetables or sausage home with you, this is the time."

Winry and Scieszka exchanged an excited glance, and Winry exclaimed, "I don't know about anyone else, but I'm going for sure!"

"And there are animal shows too," Roy nodded. "I thought we could spend some time there, then have lunch at the local pub, sampling some excellent beer," he glanced with a smirk at Breda, "and then we'll come back here either to rest up a bit or clean up. Then I've arranged a hayride, with a big campfire and barbecue at the far end of it, before we come home. How does that sound?"

His plans were greeted with another enthusiastic round of applause. Fuery dashed back upstairs to get washed and dressed while the young women returned to their breakfast-making with gusto. Roy leaned against the doorframe and watched as Al and Breda began to take plates, bowls, and cutlery from the cupboards to the table, while Havoc unearthed the table's extra leaf and helped Armstrong insert it.

Ed finished stacking the firewood in the cupboard, coming through the door and leaning his back against the opposite doorframe. Again he grinned over at his companion. "Just like the good old days, I see. Letting everyone else do all the work."

'_It almost is, isn't it?' _Riza echoed_._

'_Oh, so you're going to gang up on me, are you?' _Roy retorted.

To Ed, he responded with a lazy smile, his eyes wandering back over the bustling activity. "So far," he murmured, "everything's going exactly the way we planned it."


	3. A visit to the fair

"I thought you didn't like ice cream, Roy."

Roy glanced at Havoc, cone up, tongue out. He relinquished control just long enough for Riza to lick off a good swoop of strawberry ice cream and swallow it.

"_Mmm_..._that's so good_," she murmured.

Roy smiled, ostensibly at his companion, seated on the bench beside him. "I've acquired some new tastes since I came here," he answered. And added, "I've been told that strawberry was Riza's favourite." He let her take another mouthful before responding to Havoc's raised eyebrows. "What?"

The other man shrugged, looking away. "I don't know. I just...wonder sometimes..."

"What?"

"If you're trying to live the life Hawkeye was supposed to but never got to. As some kind of penance, maybe, for being alive when she isn't."

Roy reached for his other self, but now she merely hovered in silence. He let his eyes wander over the bustle of people among the rows of tents and booths. To the left of the shaded bench he shared with Havoc, people lined up at a booth selling roasted meat chunks on skewers, while the ice cream booth across from it was doing just as brisk a business. A little farther to the right, a few booths away, he could see Armstrong looming over the crowds, dutifully carrying bags for Winry and Scieszka as they shopped.

"It's not really that," Roy said. "I mean...I suppose there's some penance involved. _More than he can imagine_," he added internally. "But it's something else too. Riza was always such a grounded person. That was something I never had in my own life. So I'm learning what made her that way. And maybe," he added wryly, "some of it will rub off on me."

Another mouthful of ice cream. "_I love you_," Riza whispered inside him. Which suddenly made it very hard to swallow.

"So is it working?" Havoc wondered, peering at him.

"A little, I think," Roy nodded, then added, "Yes, I think I've really internalized Riza's grounding influence."

"_Oh, that is so bad!_" Riza groaned.

He chuckled and stood up, taking his own lick at the ice cream. "C'mon, Jean, I think it's almost time for Vato's race, isn't it?"

Towering above the two rows of booths selling crafts, homemade foods, and general refreshments, a big barn housed the large animal displays. To one side of it, smaller pens accommodated other animals entered in competitions. And on the other side of the large barn lay an open field of short grass. To this field Roy and Havoc now repaired, to watch a foot race and maybe some games to come after it.

Vato Falman had put his name in for one of the foot races almost as soon as they'd arrived at the fair that morning. And through the rest of the morning and into this afternoon, the news had spread, about this military outsider who thought he could compete with the locals.

When the two newcomers joined the other men of their party on the sidelines of the field, they found Falman stripped to his undershirt, doing stretching exercises. Fuery and Breda, meanwhile, seemed to be embroiled in some kind of good-natured argument with Ed, as Alphonse observed.

"You know it would be cheating, don't you?" Fuery said.

"But who'd know?" Ed returned. "Would _you_ tell them?"

Breda held up his hands, taking a mock step backwards. "I'm not getting in the middle of this for anything."

"And what, exactly," Roy wondered, "is Ed planning to cheat at?"

Alphonse flashed a smile, his colour high. "He was talking about entering the weight-lifting contest, without revealing he's got an automail arm and leg. But," the young man added firmly, "he was only joking."

Roy raised an eyebrow at Ed, watching him over the cone as he let Riza have another lick.

Ed grinned. "Of course I wasn't going to actually do it," he snorted.

"Well, good," Roy drawled. "For a minute, there, I thought you might be planning to undermine all the credibility I've built up here, the past few months." He looked at Falman, who smiled before he bent over to press his palms to the ground. "Don't worry about me," the other man remarked to his knees.

The racers were called to assemble just as Winry and Scieszka rushed up, followed dutifully by Armstrong, laden with canvas bags.

"Are we late?" Scieszka cried. "Tell me we haven't missed it!"

Fuery took her hand and pointed to the far end of the field. "No, they haven't even lined up yet. There's plenty of time."

The racers, ten or twelve in all, gradually moved to the ends of their assigned lanes, which were marked along the field with coloured flags tied to stakes. Falman was easily discernible, standing at least a head taller than the next tallest runner.

"_We're a short people in this area_," Riza remarked.

"_But very sturdy and strong_," Roy added.

"_Stocky and barrel-shaped, you mean?_"

"_The last thing __**you**__ ever were_," he said warmly, "_was barrel-shaped._"

"_Though I seem to be getting a little flabby now_," she said, moving his hand to rest on his stomach. He chuckled, turning back to watch the racers' final preparations.

"Going to share the joke?" Havoc said, drawing Roy's startled eyes to his face.

"Oh. Well...I was just remembering something Riza once said about the people in this area. About being stocky but not barrel-shaped. You sort of had to be there."

Armstrong had set all his packages down near the edge of the field, and now stood behind the row of watchers as they all hugged the sideline. Falman would be running past them in the second lane from the edge. The racers stood poised at the starting line, and a man at the corner raised his arm. A shot retorted through the air as he shouted, "_Go!_" and the racers were off.

Falman burst forward, instantly in the lead, but almost immediately a second runner, a young man three lanes over, began to catch up. The crowds on the sidelines screamed for their favourites, a cheer swelling to a frenzy as a third runner slowly caught up the two leaders. The pounding of running feet mixed into the shouting like emphatic punctuation. By midfield, Falman's original competitor was neck and neck with him.

Or, thought Roy, hilariously, neck and mid-chest, since the guy really wasn't very tall-

"_Oh, shut up!_" Riza laughed in his head, then joined her external voice to the shouts of the crowd: "Go Falman!"

The third runner put on a sprint even as the second pulled slightly ahead of Falman. Just over a quarter of the field to go. The screaming of the crows was raucous as the runners' arms and legs rose and fell with fierce rhythm. In a swift flash, they passed Roy's vantage point, the racers' harsh gasps rising and swiftly truncating in a bizarre doppler effect, Falman and the third runner dead even, the second a mere two feet ahead of them.

Approaching the end now–hard to tell from this angle—

"Is he catching up?"

"I can't see!"

"So close!"

Arms thrown in the air as the shouting swelled to a crescendo – the winner – Falman's first rival. But—

"He's second! He's second!" Winry and Scieszka yelled at each other, jumping up and down, and the rest of their group cheered. At the end of the field, Falman walked over to the first- and third-place runners and shook hands and talked for a moment.

"That was great," Havoc said. "Will there be any more races?"

"_Horse and wagon_," Riza supplied.

"I gather," Roy remarked, "that we've got horses and wagons next. I don't think I'll stay for those, though. It's almost time to get home and prepare for the hay ride at suppertime."

As Falman strolled back to the group, Breda called, "You let him win, didn't you?"

"Not a chance," Falman shook his head. "Those guys were _fast_. I could hardly keep ahead of the one behind me."

Alphonse looked back toward the end of the field nearest the large barn. "Better get away from the sidelines," he said. "We're going to have company."

The drivers had already begun to lead their horses and wagons out from a space between the barn and the pens, where they'd been waiting. In single file, they moved along the side of the field toward the starting line at the other end. The wagons were relatively small – probably designed for the races in fact, rather than for really carrying much – and this meant that only one horse was hitched to each wagon.

"_But they still churn up the field pretty well_," Riza remarked. "_That's why they hold the foot races first._"

Roy backed away from the edge of the field with most of the rest of the audience, to make way for the procession of wagons and horses. "Those who aren't staying for this race," he called to his own people, "we've got at least one car heading back to the house-"

A mild thud – a resounding _pop!_ and the sound of shattering glass— "Oh no!" someone cried—

"**Scieszka**!" Riza shouted, and leaped forward.

And Scieszka – turning toward the familiar voice and away from a nearby horse rearing behind her – eyes widening in shocked surprise as Roy hurtled toward her and threw her to the ground. They rolled twice, three times over the grass, as people shouted around them and the horse's driver yanked at the reins, even as its hooves smashed onto the spot where Scieszka had just stood. Where jam from a couple of broken jars had started seeping through the canvas bag Scieszka had dropped.

Riza rolled Roy's body away and sat up. She leaned forward, helping Scieszka to sit as well. The young woman straightened her glasses (remarkably unbroken) and shivered, looking around.

"Roy – thank you – I – I – well," she forced a bright tone into her voice. "That _was_ exciting, wasn't it?"

Roy tried to answer, fought to say something, but he had no control of his body. He watched his hand reach out and rest on Scieszka's hair. Even through that light touch, he could sense her trembling.

The young woman faltered, "The – the thing is – someone shouted at me. Did you hear it? I – I could have sworn the voice was—"

Roy seemed to flood back into his body as Riza fled. He jerked back into control with a gasp, then closed his eyes. "I know, Scieszka," he murmured, "I thought I heard her too. It happens sometimes." He opened his eyes and gave her a crooked smile. "It's one of the reasons I stay here."

She stared at him, wide-eyed, as the others finally reached them.

"Scieszka!" Fuery cried, falling to his knees beside her. "Are you all right? I should have been there! I—"

"Oh, now, don't start that," she said, patting his shoulder matter-of-factly. "I'm fine. Roy's got good reflexes."

"I'll say," Ed commented, his hand wound tightly with Winry's. "I've never seen you move that fast before, Mustang."

"And anyway," Scieszka straightened her glasses again, "I should pay more attention to what I'm doing." She looked up, way up, at Armstrong as he came up behind the rest of the group, the offending canvas bag in one hand, oozing red goo. "It's a shame about the jam, though."

Winry grimaced. "The jam's not important. All that matters is that you're okay."

"And the jam is really nothing," Breda said. "We can buy you another couple of jars before we leave."

Winry added, "I think I'm ready to get back to the house for a while, before we go on the hayride. We need to catch our breath. You're really okay, Scieszka?"

The other young woman got up and brushed off her slacks, her young fiancé's arm firmly around her shoulders the whole time. "I'm just fine. Don't bother about me. We're military, remember? We laugh at things like this." But she kept herself securely within that protective circle as she spoke.

Ed stepped to Roy's side and reached a hand down. "Good job, Roy," he said. "Let me help you up."

Roy lifted his knees and wrapped his arms around them. "Thanks, Ed, but you go on. I'll be there in a minute."

The other hesitated, eyes narrowing. "You okay? She's right – we're military. This sort of thing is minor, compared to other things that have happened to us."

"I know. But give me a minute anyway." Roy met his eyes. "Please?"

Ed paused a moment longer, before nodding and turning away. Havoc waited an instant longer, scrutinizing his friend's face, before following Ed. "All right, let's get going, everybody – he's coming, just let him get his balance back – let's move it!"

Roy closed his eyes, as the sounds swirled around him. The creak of wagons and the clomp of horses' hooves as they started to move again. Someone apologizing profusely to Scieszka while she apologized simultaneously for dropping the bag of jam jars and spooking the horse. The swish of people's feet on the grass.

The pounding of his heart, that hadn't yet settled down.

"_I'm very sorry_," Riza spoke at last. "_I had no time._"

"I know," he whispered.

"_I had to act, or she would have been crushed. I didn't have time to ask for permission._"

"I know. It's all right."

"_Maybe the others didn't hear my voice when I yelled. Maybe—_"

"_That part doesn't matter. It could be explained somehow. Don't worry._"

A lengthy pause. "_But you're still upset. I can feel it. What should I have done?_"

"It's nothing you've done!" Roy burst out, then bit his lip, cutting off his external voice. _"It's me, not you. It's always me. You need your own body, and I let it die. And locked you into this hell instead, where you have to ask 'permission' just to move._" Roy bowed his head, pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes.

"_Roy...we've been through all this. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel this way._"

"_I know. But I can't help–"_

Sometimes she knew him better than he knew himself. She cut firmly into what had once been a familiar refrain: "_Roy Mustang, do not start down that road again. We are what we are, now, and we're dealing with it_." Her tone softened very slightly. "_We have guests, Roy. We wanted them to have a good time. Let's not worry about this now. Please?_"

He lowered his hands, leaning them back onto the grass as he stretched out his legs. For a moment he held his face up to the sun, eyes closed. "_You're right, as always. I'll behave. But..._"

"_I know the 'but', my love. It's all right. Let's go._"

"Mister Mustang? Are you all right?"

Roy opened his eyes to see two men bending over him, peering at him in concern. He wasn't quite sure who they were, even if they knew him. Probably a couple of the volunteers at the fair. "Hello," he said. "I just needed to catch my breath."

"Would you like us to help you up, sir?" asked one of the volunteers, his gruff face worried under the bill of a ball cap.

Roy glanced aside, to where some of the wagons had finally reached the end of the field and were beginning to line up. He could hear the clops of the horses' feet in the clear air. He smiled wryly, "A diplomatic way of asking if I'll get out of the way so they can race. You're right, this isn't exactly the best place to meditate. Sorry about that."

As he stood, the other volunteer, a slightly younger man, interjected, "Oh no, Mister Mustang, we didn't want to hurry you off if you'd been injured. That was a pretty impressive dive you made, if you don't mind my saying."

Roy stood and brushed grass off his pants. "Thanks," he smiled. "At least I know I can still do it when I need to, eh?" He patted each of them on a shoulder. "And thanks for worrying. You can get the race going now and I'll get out of the way."

The others weren't very far ahead of him, and both he and Riza chuckled to see that Ed and Havoc had lagged even further, watching over their shoulders.

"_Like a couple of babysitters_," Roy remarked.

"_Well, you do need looking after_."

"_For a little longer, at least_," he agreed. "_Though I think you do a better job than all of them combined. But anyway, we'll give our friends a really good weekend, and make up for this little lapse. And then, when they're gone..._"

"_Yes,_" Riza greed softly inside him. "_When they're gone..._"


End file.
